


Sink or swim

by mikansei



Category: Bleach
Genre: Gen, the summary sounds suggestive but it's gen I swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-21
Updated: 2016-03-21
Packaged: 2018-05-28 06:24:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6318208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikansei/pseuds/mikansei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ichigo wants to learn something, and who better to teach him? (No, really, he's open to suggestions.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sink or swim

The front door slid open before Ichigo could even knock (his reiatsu had given him away, he was sure). “Kurosaki-san! What a pleasant surprise,” Kisuke said, even though he was undoubtedly not surprised. “What brings you to Urahara Shouten?”

“Urahara-san… I want you to teach me something.”

“Oh?” Kisuke pulled his fan out, flicked it open and hid his face behind it. “I trust you haven’t forgotten the nature of my training methods.”

Ichigo grimaced. No, he definitely hadn’t. “Can I come in?”

Kisuke moved aside and gestured for Ichigo to come in. “I’ll put the tea back on.”

Ichigo paused just inside the doorway. “Is it _your_ tea?”

“No, Tessai-san made it.” Kisuke pouted. “…Is mine really that bad?”

Ichigo shot him a deadpan look, and Kisuke’s pout intensified. Ichigo huffed a laugh through his nose.

Kisuke led the way through the upper level to the meeting room (even though Ichigo could’ve found his way there blindfolded). “So…” Kisuke began once they were settled around the low table. “What do you want me to teach you?”

“I want to learn hakuda.”

Kisuke looked thoughtful. “What brought this on all of a sudden?”

“Well…” Ichigo paused, trying to put his ideas into words. “I was thinking – what if I was ever disarmed somehow, if I didn’t have access to Zangetsu at all? I mean, I guess I’ve picked up _some_ hakuda, but ever since I became a shinigami, it’s never been my strong suit. Of everyone I know, Yoruichi-san’s probably the best at it, and I know you two used to train together.”

“Why not have Yoruichi-san train you, then?”

He shot Kisuke another deadpan look. “Your training may be pretty brutal, but at least _you_ probably wouldn’t insist on being naked the whole time.”

Kisuke laughed. “That’s fair. So… shall we get started? If we’re going to be training in hakuda, I’ll need a change of clothes.” He rose, offering Ichigo a hand up. “Leave your zanpakutou here and go on ahead to the training room. I’ll meet you there.”

Ichigo was a little puzzled. Change of clothes? Kisuke had always trained him wearing his usual outfit. He shrugged it off, left his body and Zangetsu behind, and made his way to the training room.

—

After about five minutes, Ichigo felt Kisuke’s reiatsu draw near. Good. He never was one for—

Ichigo’s train of thought derailed.

And he busted out laughing.

Kisuke approached, unimpressed. “Come now, Kurosaki-san. What’s so funny?”

Ichigo tried to stand up straight and look Kisuke in the eyes, and promptly busted out laughing again, doubling over and clutching at his stomach. “You,” he gulped in air. “You look like you’re wearing a Soi Fon costume!”

Kisuke stood before him, hatless; his hakama were tucked into a pair of shinguards, and his geta were replaced by a pair of flat black shoes. He smoothed out the front of his backless shihakushou top and adjusted the sleeves that ended at his biceps. “This is the uniform of the corps commander of the Onmitsukidou’s executive militia. I’ve had to borrow Yoruichi-san’s uniform, as I was corps commander of the detention unit myself…”

“You’re wearing _Yoruichi-san’s_ — ah—!” Ichigo’s laughter dissolved into a briefly serious expression. “I really shouldn’t laugh at you, you’ll make my training even harder.”

“You know me well, Kurosaki-san~” Kisuke chuckled. “You’ve never seen the reason Soi Fon-san wears this particular uniform, have you?”

“You mean it’s not just a terrible fashion statement?”

Kisuke smiled unsettlingly; a chill ran down Ichigo’s spine. “I’ll start off with hakuda’s most powerful incarnation. Fighting against it will be a good demonstration of your current skill level.”

Kisuke held both his arms out, gathering his reiatsu. It built and built and _built_ , until it was glowing bright red in his palms. (Ichigo half thought Kisuke was going to launch a kidou at him, but this was hakuda training… wasn’t it?) Then, it flowed up his arms, over his shoulders, and _crashed_ out his back in a cascade of red. Ichigo squinted and had to shield his eyes from it. When he looked at Kisuke again, he was roiling with bright red reiatsu, two columns of it extending from his shoulderblades to the roof of the training room.

“This is shunkou. The ultimate combination of hakuda and kidou.”

Kisuke’s reiatsu flowed about him like bright streams of water – or blood, Ichigo mused, as Kisuke launched himself forward in the blink of an eye and forced him to dodge the blow aimed for his temple.

“Throwing me in the deep end, huh, geta-boushi?” Ichigo said between dodges.

He caught a fond smile on the afterimage of Kisuke’s face. “You always manage to swim.”

Ichigo grinned.


End file.
